Boy Scout
by GroovyKat
Summary: Who, really, is the Boy Scout on the G-Force team?


**Heads up warning on this one:** This was written solely to get my Eagle and Swan into naughtiness. There is no plot, no story (well not really), just a means to let Princess loose on her man. If you don't like erotic fiction, pause right here and wander away. If you're up for a little Mills & Boon style romp, then read on and enjoy! Now I have seen far worse naughtiness on here, so I feel this is okay ... It should be.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them. I really really want to, but I don't...

**Boy Scout**

It was a cloudless midday in late summer when Mark finally admitted to himself that Jason had finally gotten to him. Years of constant badgering, bullying, insubordination and taunting had finally wriggled up into his subconscious and driven him toward the edge of the cliff overlooking the ocean that housed the research centre he'd just escaped from.

Okay, it wasn't all Jason. There were many factors that led him to this quiet haven of solitude. Jason's taunting had just been the straw that broke the Eagle's back – so to speak, of course.

_Boy Scout_.

He didn't really know what it was about that label that really upset him. It was a reputation given to him very early on in training by one of the more Boot-Camp style trainers at the initial training facility. At fourteen he'd been an eager student, not just because of his need to learn, but also because of his knowledge that not knowing would likely kill him. That didn't necessarily equate to complete Boy Scout behaviour, but he'd been labelled with it just the same.

Mark was by no means a boy scout; such was the opinion of the G-Force Condor. He certainly had his fair share of dirty little secrets and explicit behaviour. He just preferred to keep such activities and pleasures low-key.

One such pleasure, his girlfriend of five years and greatest kept secret in the universe, was one he desperately needed to keep under wraps. If not only for the fact that the relationship was forbidden, but because it was _their _relationship. He didn't want Jason or anyone to pick it apart and dirty it up.

And anyway, why did it have to come down to getting laid with every argument with that man? Every time he disagreed with any order, any reprimand, or any decision, Jason's rebuttal was "You really need to get laid – maybe then you'd lighten up".

Get laid.

Boy Scout.

Childish, juvenile, fucking schoolyard, damn bloody …

"Mark?"

The sound of her worried tone rushed his own juvenile rambling from his mind. He slouched himself heavily against the trunk of the Oak tree and closed his eyes in an attempt to shield his anguish from her.

"Hi, Princess."

Her smile was warm and even though he couldn't see it through closed eyes, he certainly felt it as she seated herself next to him and nestled herself comfortably at his side.

"You shouldn't let him get to you," she advised softly as she drew his arm around her shoulder.

He inhaled and exhaled heavily and opened his eyes to give her a tired look. "Easier said than done, Princess."

She looked into his eyes for a long few moments as if analyzing his thoughts, then trailed her fingertips down his cheek. She gave a smile as he closed his eyes and tilted his face in to her touch. "He's waiting for you to bite. He wants you to react."

He let out a short snort of a laugh. "And I certainly gave it up for him today, didn't I?"

Her eyes were wide, but she smiled as she nodded. "That is an understatement, Commander."

He palmed his forehead and let out a long groan. "I'm just so sick of him referring to me as a God-damn boy scout every time he doesn't get his way." He felt her giggle softly. "It's not funny, Princess. I am by no means a boy scout."

"No, I can definitely attest to that."

He continued as if she hadn't commented. "Rules are rules. I have to lead. I have to lead by example. We are a unit that is so feared by the world's governing bodies that they're looking for a reason to either shut us down or take over the project. If I say to hell with the law and justice, and let's start killing everyone and breaking orders, then we'll all be …"

"In deep shit," she finished, adding a chuckle at his shocked look at she using a swear.

"Um, yeah. Deep shit."

She let her hand sweep lazily down and then up his thigh. "I know your frustration, Mark, honest I do." She let her hand slide up underneath his shirt and lightly grazed her nails on his chest as she snuggled in closer to him. "Jason isn't blind to the problem, either. He's just frustrated like you are."

He shuddered at her touch and relaxed a little to enjoy it. "But does that mean he has to constantly take it out on me?"

Her head nodded against his shoulder. "You're the only one he can take it out on, Mark. You're more of a worthy opponent than the rest of us." She felt his arm tighten across her shoulder as she circled his nipple with her fingernail. "I mean, really. What would happen if he started on me instead of you?"

"I'd kill him."

She chuckled low. "Mmmm. My big protector."

His eyes flashed when he felt her nuzzle into his neck. With a predatory growl he pulled her onto his knee, chest against chest. "Hero," he corrected as his lips nipped at the side of her mouth.

She giggled and playfully pressed her palms into his chest to push herself away from him. "You're changing the subject."

"To a better one."

She suppressed a laugh at the look of him trying to extend his neck enough to kiss her again; his lips puckered wide and stretching just as much as his neck. "Better though it may be, you really do need to think about what happened back at Neptune, and what repercussions might come of it."

His body slumped again and he set his hands gently on her hips. "I should have just decked him, shouldn't I?"

She nodded and released her push on him to fold her arms across her chest and nod in a parental manner. "I think that might have been a little better than you declaring that you actually get much more sex than he does."

He groaned. "God, what was I thinking?"

"You weren't, Mark, and that's so unlike you."

His hands absently stroked up and down her hips. "It looks like we might have to come out of hiding."

Her lips pursed tightly together as she looked down. "It's one option."

He gave a firm tug on her hips to draw her closer to him. "What's the other?"

"You could pretend you're as much a dog as he claims to be." She felt his response as he formed it in his mind and waved a finger from side to side in front of him. "Now now. I am okay with that. If you want to prove to him that you aren't a boy scout then you tell him you get whatever you want whenever you want, and leave it at that."

The words "boy scout" leaving her lips made him slump dejectedly underneath her. His hands dropped from her hips and he turned his head to the side so not to look at her. "I am so sick of hearing those two words."

She cupped her hand on his cheek to draw his face back to her. "Would you rather be referred to as a womanizing dog and an arrogant asshole?"

"Princess!" he exclaimed in shock at her being so crass.

She rolled her eyes and shrugged. "We all have our hidden sides, Mark. I don't complain or upset myself that I am viewed as the naïve little girl who is nothing but a little lap dog for her Commander." She watched his brow rise as he looked at her currently sitting in his lap. "Regardless of what position I am in right now, you know how I am seen by the world. I don't like it, but I don't let it get to me."

"No," he whispered. "You use that to your advantage."

She kissed the air in a self-satisfied manner. "So do you, Commander," she teased.

He flicked a brow upward in agreement and focused on his hands once again finding their way back to her hips. When he noticed her unusual attire his head cocked to one side. "Why aren't you in uniform?"

"Typical," she sighed as she took hold of his hands and guided them to the thin straps of her little sundress. "Change the subject."

He watched his hands gently push the straps off her shoulders. "I don't often see you outside of your uniform." His eyes flicked up at her cough. "Oh besides when we … you know."

"Oh I know," she teased as she leaned herself down to draw her mouth along his jaw. "They had to take my uniform in for processing and repair. The weapon they used burned a long streak down the side. They wanted to analyze the residue and see what was used."

He let out a shaky breath as she sucked on his collarbone and toyed with his belt buckle – he knew she was in the process of unbuckling it. "And so you come to me wearing the one thing you know weakens my resolve."

"Mmmm," she hummed as she tugged the belt free of his jeans. "Yes, something feminine."

"Princess," he moaned as her hand found its way into his jeans to stroke him. "You realize we're outside, right?"

She breathed heavily against his mouth, making sure to keep her kiss just out of reach of his as she pushed at the waistband of his jeans just enough to be able to free him from his Boxer Briefs. "Yeah, is it a problem for you?"

He shook his head and watched her with wide anticipation as she slid herself down along his legs. "No," he breathed as she settled herself on her knees and lowered her face to his hips. "I don't ever have a problem with … ohh."

He couldn't finish the sentence or continue speaking once she took him in her mouth. It wasn't often that she did this to him. She preferred to save it until she thought he really, really needed her. As her warm lips and tongue danced along his length in a slow, long and tight stroke, he felt his muscles slowly tingle and relax – each muscle waiting it's turn to do so, from head, to shoulder, to … to …

His lungs expelled a deep and long breath of air that drove itself out in a long moan. It came out with such need that it forced his head to roll back on the trunk of the tree. Her name passed through his open mouth as a whisper that seemed to ghost down his body to kiss softly at the dampened lower part of his erection as she drew her lips upward.

He shuddered at the sensation, and then at the warmth of her mouth returning to encase him almost completely.

His fingers threaded into her hair, not to guide or pressure her rhythm, but to assure her he was still with her. He held back from bucking his hips, but lost his control when he felt the lightest touch of her teeth in a gentle bite on the extreme tip of him.

His moan was unbidden. There was no held back strain or whine in the moan. He let it out long, he let it out loud.

She chuckled against him, only furthering the ripples of sensation along his sensitive skin.

"God," he half yelled, half groaned. "Princess, you'll be the absolute death of me."

She moaned herself as he clutched at her hair. She felt her own self ache in a throbbing need to take him inside her and pressed her legs tighter together to try to press out the pinging throb of need. It only succeeded in spreading the ache throughout her mid-section and she found herself sighing at the smallest amount of pleasure it seemed to give her.

Mark leaned forward to grab at her hips with the intent to pull her up and on to him.

"_G2 to G1. Mark, you on?"_

"God, no," Mark moaned long, his disappointment obvious. "Not now, Jason, God, not now."

Princess was up on her knees in a flash. She slid up Mark's knees and harshly hauled his wrist to her mouth. "G3 to G2, Jason, back off."

"_Princess?"_ His shock at her demand through Mark's communicator was obvious.

Her mind was on anything but Jason and protocol as she pressed her hand into Mark's chest to push him hard against the tree and adjusted herself enough to quickly lower herself on to him. Her grip on Mark's wrist was tight. She wanted the sensation of Mark moving inside her to fuel her aggressive demand to Jason.

"Mark … Mark's busy."

Her voice was an octave higher than it normally was, and her words more hissed than spoken. Jason obviously didn't read that much into it as his reply was bland and annoyed.

"_Doing what?"_

"Me," she answered hotly, ignoring the stunned gasp from Mark as she clawed at his communicator, yanked it off his wrist, and then threw it to one side.

Whatever Jason's response was it was unheard as she grabbed Marks face in both hands and crushed her mouth against his.

Mark obviously didn't care about the transmission, nor the fact she'd taken command of the situation and taken G-Force completely out of the picture to let their passion play out. He let her rise and fall harshly on him. He let her control the speed, the length and the stroke of him inside her.

Perhaps she wanted this … needed this as much, or even more, than he did.

Her hands found their place on the trunk of the tree and she used her firm grip on the bark to give her leverage atop of him. Her eyes locked on his and fired a wild green glare at him.

"Are you enjoying this, Mark?" She asked hotly.

He hummed an affirmative and curled a lip with a soft groan as she smacked herself down on him.

"Prove it," she demanded hotly as she denied him a kiss and continued to glare at him. "Make me believe it."

He was too blinded by the sheer explosive energy inside him to analyze why she would ask him such a thing. He didn't even allow himself to wonder how he would be able to prove it to her without simply picking her up and shoving her hard up against the tree. He made do with rolling his head backward and opening his mouth to allow every breath explode unrestricted out of his mouth in loud, unashamed and thunderous groans.

It seemed to be what she needed as she clutched harder at the bark of the tree and increased the aggressiveness of her bucking.

Her growling and grunting switched to high-pitched groans and panting. Her eyes shot open and glowed in apparent defeat. While her bucking didn't slow or ebb, he knew finality was coming. He could feel it; the slowly increasing rippling of her holding plateau of passion.

Was she holding on, or was she unable to find the edge?

He knew damn well that within a few seconds his end would come.

He heard something inside her moans, something that begged him to help her finish. He threaded his arms up her back to grab at her shoulders and pulled her down hard onto him.

Her eyes flared open and her mouth gaped as if unable to breathe. He pushed her harshly to the ground and slammed himself against her. His hips stroked her in and then out, slow and then hard…

…And she found the edge.

Her breath squealed out of her in a frequency so high, Mark was unsure if he even heard it. He felt her, though. Her entire bodyseemed to contract inside herself and clutch tightly against him.

He should have thought it painful, if it weren't for the sheer fact that her blistering climax and her sudden tighter hold on him forced him to the very same crushing defeat she had just endured. He rocked hard against her to work out the orgasm in its entirety. Each thrust slowed and lengthened as she released her inner hold on him and he felt every ounce of stress worry and unsureness spill out of him.

Finally he collapsed. His chest and body fell heavily on hers and he found himself unable to lift himself up off her to allow her to breathe.

She didn't seem to mind. She kissed gently at his ear and stroked his hair as he fought to find his breath.

"Oh Mark," she whispered finally. "Do me a favour?"

He found the strength to rise onto his elbows and he swept her hair from her face. "What's that?"

"Fight with Jason more often?"

He wanted to laugh but was hit with a sudden moment of panic. He immediately pulled himself up off her and leaned his rump back on his knees as his hand clutched at his bangs. "Jason. Oh shit, Princess."

She slowly brought herself to a seat and tugged the straps of her dress up. "What about him?"

He pulled his jeans up and crawled along the grass to retrieve his communicator. "Did you forget what you just said to him?"

She giggled into her hand as he found his communicator and clasped it back onto his wrist. His panic was obvious. She rose to her feet and lightly padded along the grass to him. She lowered her hand to offer him help to a stand. "Well. He did tell you to stop being such a boy scout and go out and get laid."

He flashed an unimpressed look.

She returned his look with a nonchalant one.

"I can't be your secret forever, Mark."

He looked at her for a moment and then softened his stance and expression. "You're right, Sweetheart," he crooned as he threaded an arm over her shoulder and pulled her close to him.

She nestled close as they walked back toward his car – and her bike. "Well, if he needed proof that …"

"Yeah," he chuckled as he thrust a hand in to his pocket. "That I'm not a little boy scout, I get it."

She rolled up onto her toes to kiss his mouth lightly when they finally made it back to their vehicles. "You know once he gets clarification of what that transmission was really all about, then the whole world will find out that you're not as gentile as they all think you are."

He pursed his lips to one side. "But is that really a good thing; you know, me admitting to not being as good a little boy as they all think I am?"

"That's really up to you," she cooed as she climbed aboard her bike. "Personally I like the whole innocence thing. Only you know who I really am … It's kind of .." she shrugged. "Our secret."

He ran his hand over her hair and gazed lovingly at her. "How do you propose we handle Jason, then?"

She offered up the most innocent and naïve look she could possible manage. "Why Jason. I don't know what you're talking about. I would never, have never …"

Mark had to laugh. "And the transmission?"

"You were helping me fix the bike, or rescuing me from something?"

He laughed and shook his head. "And the deception continues…"

She blew him a kiss and kicked the stand of her bike. "Let him think you're a boy scout, Mark. If it makes him feel better to be the bad while you're the good, then let it be. Just next time, when you two have your weekly argument … Punch him and then come see me."

He winked and nodded. "Big ten on that."

"Who knows, Mark. Jason might not be the roving eyed and womanizing monster he claims to be. With you and I being different to how everyone sees us, perhaps he is too."

Mark's brows rose. "You mean Jason is the boy scout?"

She said nothing, but smiled, as she turned the throttle to speed her bike away from the cliffs. She had a point, as always. He being viewed as the boy scout wasn't a bad thing, really. It offered he and she the privacy to be just them and it gave Jason an out when he needed verbal release against society.

He kicked at the loose gravel and had to have a quiet chuckle at Princess' analysis.

Jason. G2 Condor: Boy Scout …


End file.
